


my darling, the night will disappear

by orphan_account



Series: ryance [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lance Has Nightmares (Voltron), M/M, Nightmares, only a tiny angst tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26515852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sometimes, Lance is lucky enough to wake up with just a jerk, sweaty and crying. Not this time. What wakes him up is his own name and a set of strong hands shaking his shoulders.
Relationships: Ryan Kinkade/Lance
Series: ryance [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927933
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	my darling, the night will disappear

**Author's Note:**

> this is for @lanceluvbot on twitter, i couldn't squeeze in your prompt in the previous fic so have this, hope you'll like it!
> 
> p.s. i can never sleep peacefully when i'm not staying in my own room, i don't have nightmares but my sleep is restless and i'm always tired, so i kind of exaggerated this and made it the reason for lance's nightmares. it may seem stupid and silly but this fic /is/ stupid and silly, so :3
> 
> enjoy!

Despite Atlas being infinitely more advanced, even his own room more comfortable, Lance finds himself missing the Castle nonetheless. If he’s being frank, all the new additions only make him miss it even more. It had been a shelter, a safe place, a home for so long, Atlas, with all of its glory, couldn’t stand a chance.

Of course, with new changes come new problems. This time, Lance’s problems are his nightmares, something he’d gotten under control up until Atlas happened.

Lance knows he’s the safest he’s ever been during this war, but his brain seems to be having trouble catching up to this small bit of information. At night, once he’s done his skincare routine and is getting into his not-so-comfortable bed, his brain starts to protest: the lights aren’t right, the bed is too different, the room is too big and with far more furniture than the Castle had.

The point is, he needs to get used to his new environment, and it’s taking longer than Lance thought it would.

.

The salty breeze of Varadero is something Lance thought he’d never feel again. His hair is drying, stiff from saltwater and sand, a shade lighter from all the sun he’s been getting. His skin is constantly warm and the bridge of his nose hosts a small sunburn.

Being home never felt better.

Especially when his hot, drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend is jogging towards him, droplets of water on his skin, hair getting in his eyes messily. This is a view Lance could really, _really_ get used to.

“Did it hurt?” Lance asks as soon as Ryan is close enough.

“What?” Ryan frowns, lies on his towel next to Lance.

“When you fell from heaven, baby,” Lance smirks, rolls over so he’s lying half on Ryan, an arm propped on the other’s chest.

Ryan rolls his eyes. “Can’t believe I didn’t see that coming.”

“Must be ‘cause of the fall,” Lance says in mock sympathy.

“Please, stop,” Ryan says, but he’s making a conscious effort to fight back a smile. “You’re supposed to use terrible pick-up lines when you’re trying to woo someone.”

“Sweetheart,” Lance says, reaching a hand to brush Ryan’s hair back. “I’ll be wooing you until I physically can’t anymore.”

“You really don’t need to.”

“It won’t hurt, wouldn’t want someone else to woo you away from me.”

Ryan wraps an arm around his middle, rolling them over so Lance is covered by him, his wet skin cold against his own, and then, very quickly, hot.

“Believe me,” Ryan whispers into the silver of space between them; a drop falls from his hair onto Lance’s flushed face. “That’s not possible.”

Lance smiles. It’s kissed off of him a moment later, leaving warmth and the taste of ocean in its place. Ryan kisses him like it’s something he wants to never stop doing, slow but no less intense, stealing the air from Lance’s chest. Lance ropes his arms around Ryan’s neck and hums into the kiss—he knows Ryan has a thing for this, always kisses Lance breathless whenever Lance makes a soft _mmm_ sound.

“Your Dad gave me the talk this morning,” Ryan says after they break apart.

“No.”

“He was all intimidating, hurt-my-son-I’ll-break-your-neck kinda Dad.”

Lance throws his head back and laughs, never removing his arms from Ryan’s neck.

“He’s ridiculous! I told him not to do it,” Lance says. “He wasn’t able to have the talk with anyone else since they all brought home a girl.”

“Well, he did a great job,” Ryan says. “I’m pretty convinced he’d end me if I ever caused you the mildest of inconvenience.”

Lance tugs at his hair. “Not possible.”

Ryan smiles down at him and Lance mirrors it. He receives a kiss on his lips, on both of his flushed cheeks, and then Ryan is rolling off of him and slumping down on his towel, eyes closed.

“Don’t nap,” Lance warns.

“Hm.”

“I mean it, I won’t wake you up, I’ll just leave you here when dinner is ready.”

“You won’t,” he says, peeks from one eye to gauge Lance’s reaction.

They both know he’s right, it doesn’t mean Lance needs to admit it.

In the end, Ryan does nap, and Lance does wake him up twenty minutes later when his mom calls for them. Lance kisses all over his face until Ryan’s grunting sleepily. Then he kisses him some more because Ryan looks adorable and very charming in his half-awake state.

.

Sometimes, Lance is lucky enough to wake up with just a jerk, sweaty and crying. Not this time. What wakes him up is his own name and a set of strong hands shaking his shoulders.

He snaps his eyes open and gasps, taking in his surroundings.

“Hey, hey,” a voice coos, spoken softly. “It’s okay, Lance, you’re okay.”

“Shit,” he says as soon as his mind works clearly.

Lance sits up, still a little shaky all over, and buries his face in his hands. He didn’t want Ryan to see him like this.

“Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

There’s a warm hand on his back, up and down, up and down, slow, calming strokes. Lance leans a little into it, like a moth to flame. Ryan slowly pries his hands away from his face, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says, brushes Lance’s hair back from his face, and adds: “You were crying.”

Lance sighs, the dampness on his cheeks now impossible to ignore. For some reason, when Ryan wipes the wetness away, impossibly gentle about it, Lance feels ashamed, feels like a child.

“Yeah, I...yeah.”

“Lance, come on,” Ryan says softly, grabbing Lance’s hand and holding it with his own. “Talk to me.”

Lance flops back down on the bed, bounces once. He stares at his glow in the dark stars. Ryan seems to hesitate but after a moment he lies back down too, still holding onto Lance’s hand, keeping it warm.

“It started after Atlas,” he says, eyes focused on a star with one of its points broken off. “I think it’s the new setting, different from The Castle, I just gotta get used to it.”

“It’s been months since Atlas,” Ryan says like Lance isn’t aware.

“I know that,” he snaps, just a little. He can’t help it, it annoys him, makes him feel like he needs to defend himself. “I thought I’d get used to it by now, and I _have_ , I just. It still happens, sometimes.”

“Okay,” Ryan says, voice softer. “Wanna talk about it?”

Lance considers it. “No, it’s just some—no.”

“Okay.”

Lance blinks, sighs, turns and presses his nose into the curve of Ryan’s neck. He feels Ryan press his lips to his forehead, feels a hand start to pet his hair.

“I really didn’t mean to wake you up,” Lance whispers.

Ryan pulls back and holds Lance’s gaze, shakes his head at him.

“Next time if I don’t wake up or if I’m not there with you, you should wake me up,” he tells Lance, and then adds: “I mean it, Lance, call me and wake me up, I don’t want you to deal with this alone.”

Lance nods.

“Kinda suck that I have to deal with it at all,” he says. “Now that the war’s over.”

“I know,” Ryan says, he pulls Lance into his chest, buries his face into his hair, and kisses him there. “I know.”

It overwhelms him suddenly, all the soothing, the gentle touches, Ryan’s warm chest, and his heart, beating and beating against the palm of Lance’s hand. Lance blinks and droplets of tears fall down.

“Hey,” Ryan says softly, cupping his cheeks. In the dark Lance can make out his eyebrows, scrunched and concerned.

“‘m just...I don’t know, this sucks,” Lance sniffs, and cries a little harder.

Ryan tips their foreheads together, not looking away from Lance’s eyes. It only makes him cry, equal parts relieved and ashamed to have Ryan watch him like this. Ryan keeps brushing his cheeks, wiping the wetness away, keeps whispering sweet nothings: _it’s okay_ and _I’ve got you_ and _baby._

When Lance finally stops, his sobs fading and his breaths calming down and his stomach no longer jumping, Ryan is still stroking his cheek.

“We can go and watch the sea?” Ryan suggests.

“No, I...we can just stay here,” Lance says, voice throaty from all the crying.

“Okay.”

“Can you just—” _hug me_ , he wants to say but finds himself feeling too embarrassed. Instead, he moves closer and gently leans his cheek on Ryan’s chest. Ryan catches on quickly and completely engulfs him, both arms pulling Lance closer and warming him all over. He kisses Lance’s forehead again, then kisses the wet corner of his eye.

“I’ll do anything you want,” he says.

It makes Lance nuzzle into him, makes him press his own kiss to the center of his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/alexisspacedust) and on [tumblr](https://alexisspacedust.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
